Those Eyes
by N3rd-e.G3niUS
Summary: Not many hobbits wait for them to return. Ana Brandybuck waits for Frodo, however, and remembers her past. She realizes some things don't change, and some things do- like those eyes. one-shot! r/r. Update: fixed formatting issues.


I had heard that they were returning sometime this week. The bounders told the Shiriffs who then told us. Most of us hobbits weren't waiting for their return. They who had left were odd, unruly, and now couldn't be trusted. Who knew if they would come back like old Mr. Bilbo Baggins down in Bag End; cracked and carrying sacks and chests of gold and jewels? I knew they would come back as heroes: hobbits that deserved to be looked up to. I was eagerly waiting for their return, even if no one else was. I missed them all terribly, but none so much as Frodo Baggins.

* * *

I remember when Frodo lived with us in the Hall down in Buckland. His parents had just drowned in the Brandywine River, and yet no one knew how. He had entered the Hall, wrapped in a cloak and a large coat. His dark curls were plastered to his forehead, he shook slightly and water ran down his cheeks and off the tip of his slight nose as if he had been out in the rain for a long period of time. He didn't look as though he had been crying however. This probably surprised me most at the time; I didn't understand how he couldn't be crying. The boy had just lost his parents. I realized that he was indeed distraught, but his personality was not one to bawl and baulk under the weight of the world. He held his head high, and respected and greeted everyone who came his way. Noticing that he wasn't crying brought my attention to his eyes. His bright cerulean eyes were full of intelligence and had a mischievous side as well. When one of the Brandybuck men introduced Frodo to us Brandy children, I was enthralled by those eyes.

I was younger than he, but not by much. We Brandybucks welcomed Frodo with open arms. He was, after all, a Brandybuck on his mother's side. Soon enough, Frodo met and befriended Merry Brandybuck. They were nigh inseparable. He and Merry I respected greatly. I tramped after them through the fields, and covered for them during their pranks. They were always too busy to slow down for me, but I think that was what made me like following so. I had just as much spunk as they, even though I was younger and just a lass. However, Frodo always made sure I didn't get in trouble with them, or, at least not too much trouble. Then, that fateful day came when Frodo's cracked uncle Bilbo came to claim Frodo as his heir. I knew this was good for Frodo, seeing as he could have a real home and money, and probably have a fine life down in Hobbiton, but I didn't want him to go. I told him so, in my simple, hobbit-child way.

"Why do you have to leave?" I asked, my lip trembling when I heard the news.

"Well, because Mr. Baggins wants to take me to Hobbiton I suppose. You'll be fine here, Ana," he said compassionately, hiding both his own sadness and excitement of leaving Brandyhall; he always wanted a real family.

"How do you know it'll all be okay?" a childish denial settling upon my shoulders.

"You know what I see?" he asked, his eyes bright and merry. "I see you happy, dancing gaily among the meadows. The clouds are high in the sky and a bird sings with you. And that's how I know it'll be okay," he said, smiling at me. His eyes met mine, and for a second I believed him.

"Wait for me, Ana." I promised I would. Nevertheless, he left, and nothing was okay. I had no friends and nothing to do. Merry became friends with the young hobbit Pippin Took, and they pulled more pranks than Frodo and Merry ever did. Pippin was a fine fellow, entertaining and sprite-like, but he wasn't Frodo. With Frodo gone, I ran over the Shire alone. Many years passed. My mother wanted me to become a more demure and proper hobbit lass, and moved us over to Tookland.

Tookland was far closer to Hobbiton than Buckland had been, and I was glad for the change. I wandered around still, loving to explore and gossip just as any other Brandybuck. I wandered closer to Bag End, hoping to get a glimpse of Frodo. However, I ended up getting many glimpses of the Gaffer Gamgee and his son Samwise, the Baggins' gardeners. This worked out for me, fortunately, for Sam was Frodo's new best friend, and the Gaffer told me all sorts of stories about the Bagginses. But, the Gaffer thought I was trying to snare his son in a game of love.

"Now Ana," he told me, a somber tone in his voice, "I know my Samwise is a good lad, if you know what I mean, but I can't have him court some Brandybuck! My Sam can find someone down here in Hobbiton, rather than the queer folk 'cross the river. No offense, Miss Ana," he added quickly. I smiled, and nodded. I wasn't interested in Sam of course, honorable and sweet though he was. I didn't have the heart to tell the Gaffer that his son fancied the barmaid Rosie Cotton; I didn't know how he'd take the news.

I ran into Frodo occasionally, but he was usually running an errand for his uncle Bilbo, or had his nose stuck in a book. When I could speak to him, however, the conversations never lingered long in my memory. Mostly just the images of his deep, thoughtful, kind blue eyes.

One day, I was walking with Sam in the garden of Bag End. He and I had become good friends and talked a great deal about the doings in the Shire. Sam was telling me how he was learning a good deal about elves from Frodo and I sighed. Sam scrutinized me closely. I balked.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't bored of you Sam," I said quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. Of course I wasn't sighing out of boredom, I didn't realize it yet, but I was sighing because-

"You fancy Mr. Frodo, don't you?" Sam said, squinting his eyes and biting his lip to hold in a laugh.

"What?" I asked, flabbergasted, thinking no such thing.

"Ana Brandybuck, don't act all offended. I meant no 'arm, you know that. But you fancy 'im, and no mistake. All the sighing, in no time he'll notice, he will, if you get my meaning," Sam said, shaking a finger at me.

"Notice? He's never here!" I said loudly. Sam held his finger to signal me to keep quiet. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the open window.

"Oh, 'e's always here," he said quietly, "Just very busy. He and Bilbo have some plans for their birthday, and that's to say the least!" I grinned; the Baggins' parties have always been the best. My grin faded. I may fancy Frodo, but he and I never talk enough for him to fancy me. Besides, he was more in love with the Shire than anything else, except maybe his uncle and some books.

"Why are you so down, Missy?" Sam asked, concerned. I shrugged.

"Well, Sam. I realize you may be right about Frodo, but unrequited affection is almost worse than admitting you had affection to begin with." Sam nodded solemnly.

"I know, Ana. I know." And then it was Sam's turn to sigh. I giggled. Sam frowned at me. I ducked my head in a slight acknowledgement of his scowl. "What's so funny?"

"Well we both feel the same way about someone, and I think we could benefit one another…" I said, looking away.

"Well finish the thought!" Sam said eagerly and curiously.

"I'll help Rosie notice you if you help Frodo notice me," I said, a mischievous smile spreading across my face. Sam chewed his lip and nodded slowly, mulling the idea over in his sandy-haired head.

"That could do the trick, Ana," Sam said. "But when-" he stopped talking. We looked at each other.

"The party!" we said in unison.

* * *

Sam and I spent the next few weeks together, becoming attached at the hip. The Gaffer became more and more concerned over our relationship, fervidly hoping that Sam wasn't going to fall for a Brandybuck. However, that obviously wasn't what Sam and I were planning. I knew that as soon as the party started, Sam would soon be with Rosie, and after the party, I hoped I would be with Frodo. Sam and I watched the clouds roll by and counted the birds that graced the sky over Bag End. We had lied in the garden between the cabbages and the carrots underneath the garden window of the hobbit hole. A shadow waivered for a moment on the ground between us, and a short intake of breath was heard. Sam and I looked up quickly and our eyes were met with a bright ray of sunshine. Squinting and eyes watering, I sat up and looked towards the sound of the footsteps coming towards us up the path.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Frodo Baggins asked, hands on his hips, standing in the garden gate.

"N-nothing!" I stammered, near tears; this is not what I wanted to happen between Frodo and I.

"It's not what it looks like, beggin' your pardon, Mr. Frodo, sir," Sam said quickly. Frodo sniffed.

Sam and I both paused, a flush creeping from our necks to our ear tips. I had seen anger and shock, and, perhaps I was wishing, a tinge of sadness in those eyes. The blue of his eyes had turned dark and flashed in the sunlight. I was afraid, for it seemed as if a terrible fell wind had overcome the calm sea. But when he asked the next question, I realized humor was in his voice, and the sea was growing calm. "Oh, and what does it look like?" Frodo asked.

I hid a smile behind my hand, and when composed I asked, "What would you want it to look like?" Hoping that Frodo would remember the time he had told me his vision of me with the meadow, I waited. Frodo paused and frowned slightly.

"Nothing I suppose. I mean, all for the best, I don't think anything should be going on between Samwise and yourself, Lady Ana, what with Sam's affection for Rosie and all." At this, we all laughed, but the sound emanating from me was not completely honest. I was glad that Frodo was not mad, and did not think ill of Sam and me sitting in his garden, but I was hurt, for Frodo obviously had forgotten what I had so dearly remembered. I rose and walked away from Bag End back to my own hobbit hole. The infamous party occurred the next evening; I was nervous. There was no way Frodo would look at me any differently than he had all these years: young, a friend, and nothing more. That was obvious by what he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember wanting my happiness, and now, my only happiness would stem from him.

* * *

A knocking at my door awakened me from my reverie.

"Ana Brandybuck, I know you're in there! And you had beat come out if you know what's best for you, you hear?" Rosie Cotton shouted into my window. I hurried to the door, and turned the knob. Rosie was inside in an instant, and down the hall in my bedroom, opening drawers and closing them, and bustling about to the bathroom. She hurried to the kitchen and grasped a bucket, shoving a pile of clothes into my arms on the way.

"Head to the washroom missy!" she called. "You look a mess!" I smiled and shook my head. Rosie had been my best friend since the Party, and usually knew what was best for me. Her only fault was her constant barmaid attitude: all fuss, no muss, and if no one can do it right, I'll do everything. But even that, although overwhelming, was endearing to those who knew Rosie well. I entered the washroom, and looked in the mirror. She was right; I was a mess. I had dirt smudged in my hair, on my face, and mud up to my ankles. I had been traipsing through the boggy land near my home, trying to clear my mind. Rosie entered brusquely, dumping a bucketful of steaming water into the wash basin.

"Ana! You haven't even undone your laces! Come, now. Tell Rosie what's on your mind," the barmaid said, taking me by the shoulder and moving closer. I sighed.

"It's nothing, really-" I began, and stopped for Rosie was tugging on my laces in the back of my dress. I found it hard to breathe as Rosie yanked and pulled the laces undone so I could step out of my gown.

"Nothing really? Pah!" spat Rosie. "Nothing like the weight the Mayor carries around is nothing! Tell me, is it Mr. Baggins?" she asked conspiratorially, raising her eyebrows. I stared, amazed.

"How on earth did you know?" I exclaimed, stepping into the tub. Rosie had turned away from me so I could have my privacy, and now turned back, holding a sponge and a bar of soap.

"Ah, Rosie knows. Now, don't be blaming my Samwise, but I heard you sighing once in a while, particularly when you and I went down towards Hobbiton. So I says to him, what's wrong with Ana? And Sam said, 'nothing's wrong with 'er of course, she's just lovesick.' And sure enough, if I paid attention, I knew you fancied Frodo, simple as that!" Rosie explained while helping me rinse my short brown hair. I sighed accidentally again. "See?" exclaimed Rosie raising her hand, flinging soap around the wash room as she did so. "I just mention the lad and you sigh!" I blushed, the tips of my pointed dears burning. "I won't speak of it now because we have too much to do. Come on now, I think you're clean enough." Rosie handed me a towel and I got out of the tub.

I wrapped the towel around myself and walked behind the screen where I had left the clothes Rosie had given me. I put on my undergarments and reached for the dress. As my hand grasped the supple fabric, I admired its beauty. The dress was common enough, but beautiful. It was white, with green leaf-like patterns rising from the hem. The short-sleeves were green as well, which brought out the color of my eyes. The bodice was snug, and it hugged my curves elegantly when I wore it. I brought it to my nose, and inhaled.

* * *

The night of the party came soon enough, and Sam and I had gotten dressed quickly and were heading to the party. We entered through the rear so as not to draw attention to ourselves. The party was in full motion, and much food, drink, singing and dancing occurred. I walked towards the dance floor under the lights, for I knew that's where Rosie would be. A lively tune was played by a few hobbit minstrels, and many hobbits danced rambunctiously. I saw blonde tresses twirl past, and I grabbed her arm. Rosie was shocked.

"What's this now?" she asked, frowning for she wanted to get back to dancing.

"I'm sorry Rosie, I really am. But, you know the fellow that swims with me and your brothers and you at times, mostly when we were younger? Well I hear he fancies you, and if you could dance with him, it'd tickle him pink!" I said, hoping she'd go along with it.

"Sam? The Gaffer's youngest? He fancies me? Well then, I'll see to it." She smiled. "Thank you Ana." I smiled also, curious as to why she'd thank me. She acknowledged my look. "I know we may not have been friends in the past, living in different parts of the Shire and all. This was unexpected from you Ana, and oddly coincidental." I frowned.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, worried that Sam's and my plan had been sabotaged.

"Well you didn't hear it from me, but I hear a certain Frodo Baggins fancies you!" I shook my head.

"Did you hear that from Sam?" I asked, both relieved and disappointed.

"Samwise? No! It's been going around for a few weeks now," Rosie said, eyeing the dance floor once again. I rolled my eyes, thanked the hobbit and pushed her back into the crowd of dancing hobbits. Frodo was among them, and I watched. His carefree appearance and dancing eyes were mesmerizing to me. He flung himself on a nearby bench, and said a few things to Sam, then pushed the surprised hobbit into Rosie's waiting arms. I smiled; our plan worked after all, even if Frodo inadvertently helped. A feeling of satisfaction washed over me as I watched Sam dance awkwardly with Rosie and then ease up after a bit.

"Lovely pair, aren't they?" a male voice said next to me. I jumped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you-" I met the speaker's eyes. "Ana?" he asked. I smiled meekly up at Frodo Baggins. "I apologize for not recognizing you sooner. You look…lovely. Exquisitely so," he finished. I looked at him, puzzled.

"It's not often Ana Brandybuck of Buckland graces those around us with a dress so fine and flattering."

I thought he was joking, but a glimpse at his face his eyes assured e he was not. "Thank you, Mr. Baggins," I said, curtseying a bit. I stole a glance at his face again; he was still looking at me.

"Will you…I mean, would you…Do you want to dance?" he asked. I nodded, blushing furiously as I took his hand. A slower- by hobbit standards, at least- song was played. He put one hand on my waist, and held my hand with the other. I paced my arm gently around his neck, not wanting to interrupt this beautiful dream. I couldn't take my gaze away from his eyes. This was the Frodo that I knew way back when; this was the Frodo I cared so much for. His eyes were full of compassion and kindness; they were so deep I felt as if I could see his clear soul. I was content with just this, but his voice broke my thoughts.

"I hear you fancy me," he said, his voice a little rough.

"Oh, really?" I said quietly, for I found it hard to catch my breath. He nodded.

"From your own lips, actually." When I looked at him with curiosity, he continued. "You see, Sam was right to say that I was always there, even if busy. I heard you and Sam out in the garden many a time, and I was glad of it. And, just so we're even- I fancy you, Ana Brandybuck. I have since the first." I looked at him in wonder. "You've hardly said a word, Ana, are you alright?"

I nodded, then said," Yes. Yes, now I'm quite alright." He smiled, a small smile, but one that made my heart melt with joy.

"Good," he whispered in my ear, and brought his lips towards mine. When our lips met, fireworks seemed to explode in all my senses. The way his felt so soft and smooth beneath mine, yet demanding surprised me. His tongue touched my lips and I felt compelled to open them, our tongues met and began a merry and giddy dance. I was light-headed as Frodo pillaged my mouth.

"I have to go," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "Bilbo is going to give his speech soon, and I need to be there. Wait for me, Ana."

"I will, Frodo," I said, longing in my voice. He left, and I felt a small void pierce my chest. I wanted him back.

"Come on, Ana!" Sam said, putting an arm around my shoulder, obviously giddy from Rosie and the Gaffer's home brew. He and Rosie's hands were laced together, and the three of us walked towards where Bilbo was standing. Rosie looked at me, and, when I caught her eye, she smiled.

"You and Frodo go well together, Ana," she said. I smiled.

"Same with you and Sam, Rosie," I replied, winking. We congregated with the rest of the hobbits, and listened to Bilbo's lengthy and odd speech. A collective gasp was heard as Bilbo vanished. I gasped as well, but wasn't too surprised. Bilbo was an odd duck, right as rain, and 111 was an odd number. I waited for Frodo after the food was gone, and the hobbits were leaving. Sam and Rosie had slunk off to who knows where, and soon enough we were fairly alone. Frodo walked towards me, and I could see the sadness in his eyes.

"I didn't think he'd actually go," Frodo said. I felt horrid for having thought Bilbo as queer; I had forgotten how much Frodo loved him.

"I'm sorry, Frodo. I really am."

Frodo breathed deeply through his nose. "None of it really matters now, I don't think," he trailed off. "Now where were we?" he asked mischievously.

Having found a secluded corner, Frodo and I resumed our relations. He stopped kissing me and looked at my face.

"What's wrong, Ana?" he asked. I paused for a moment.

"What do you see?" I asked, willing for him to remember and heal the hurt.

"I see," he began, "you happy, inconceivably so, singing and dancing among the tall grasses of a meadow." I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"You do remember," I whispered.

"Of course I remember!" Frodo said, kissing me again. " I only didn't want to remember in case you didn't fancy me, Ana. I love you." The tears started flowing, and he kissed them away.

"Don't cry, Ana. It's okay. We now know, and no harm done. I'll always be here for you."

"Promise?" I asked, feeling like a child once more.

"Promise," he said, pulling me closer. He kissed me once more, fervently. "That dress is stunning, Ana, but it'd look even better on my floor," he said, lust and a glint of eagerness in his eyes.

* * *

A tear slid down my cheek as I held the dress to my nose; his deep forest-like scent still lingered in the fabric. I put on the dress, and Rosie laced up the back.

"There we are," she said with a flourish. "Lovely as ever, Ana." She looked at me in concern. "Do tell me what's the matter, love. You never did get a chance. Tell us while we're waiting for those boys in the carriage, alright?" Rosie said, leading me to the cart that we were to take to meet the returning hobbits on their road home.

* * *

Frodo and I had spent the next weeks reuniting, tramping over the fields as we did when we were younger. I felt free and blissful, falling deeper and deeper for him whenever I looked in his eyes. Then, one day, he was gone. I went to Bag End and found a letter on the table for me.

_Dearest Ana, my meadow-lark,_

_I'm afraid I have to be away on urgent business. I will try to arrive as soon as possible. Please do not speak of my disappearance with anyone. It is best that way. I will return to you, my Ana. I promise. _

_I love you, _

_Wait for me, _

_Frodo_

* * *

I showed the letter to Rosie, the letter I had carried on my person ever since I found it. Rosie's eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Ana. Sorry you had to live with this for so long, and no one to tell." A glimmer of realization moved across her face. "That's what you were so upset about! The night they all left."

I nodded. When I found the note that evening, I went to Rosie in tears, and cried for hours. I had mumbled incoherently, and she nursed me back to health, mending my heart slowly. I had been selfish, for I knew she missed Sam as well, but I couldn't help it. Childishly I felt bitter towards him for he had left me, and he promised he wouldn't. But mostly, I was hurt and angry because I had never told him I loved him. Rosie put her hand on my shoulders to comfort me, and then pointed in the distance.

"They're here!" she screeched happily. We ran to greet them, the sadness lifted off my shoulders when I counted that four ponies carrying four riders came over the hill. Merry, Pippin and dear Sam were all back home and well. Rosie tugged Sam from the saddle and covered him in kisses. Merry and Pippin saluted me and moved a little ways away to give Sam and Rosie some privacy. I saw him then.

Frodo Baggins riding a dark pony, dressed in velvet and other finery and looking tired, but no worse for wear than expected. I was overjoyed. I ran up to his pony, and noticed one of his fingers was shorter than the others. I touched it gently, wondering how it happened. I looked up at him, and he avoided my gaze, looking at my face instead of meeting my eyes.

"I waited for you," I said, taking his hand in mine. He met my gaze this time. He smiled, but the gesture did not reach his eyes. His blue eyes remained emotionless and tired. No clear recognition passed through them, and I recoiled. What had they done with his eyes? His beautiful, compassionate eyes. The eyes I had seen glinting mischievously, caringly, angrily, lustily, lovingly. I felt a lump in my throat and forced it down.

"What do you see?" I asked, hesitantly.

"I see…the shire, and a peaceful meadow." I nodded, encouragingly; maybe he wasn't gone, maybe my Frodo was still there. "And fire, and ruin…and nothing. Emptiness," Frodo responded slowly, looking off into the distance. I nodded again. Emptiness, just like in his eyes.

* * *

Time passed, and it became apparent that Frodo wanted to make yet another journey, this one to the Grey Havens. Rosie and Sam had been happily married and were living in Bag End with Frodo. The day came when he wanted to leave, and elves came to bare him and Bilbo away to the sea. I followed behind on a pony of my own, wishing to see him off like Merry, Pippin and Sam. They didn't know it yet, but I could feel it in my heart; Frodo didn't mean to return.

I lingered behind, not wanting to intrude on the final goodbyes between the hobbits of the quest. I doubt anyone noticed I was there, for I rode alone. Frodo walked onto the boat after a teary goodbye to his friends. He looked over his shoulder and smiled, this time it reached his tear-reddened eyes. The boat sailed away, and I found tears sliding down my face.

His beautiful eyes had met mine for only an instant, but it was enough. My Frodo wasn't gone, just buried. This journey is exactly what he needs to revive his soul, and rekindle the fire in his eyes. I had heard the lands of the West were beautiful and relaxing, meadows filled with birds singing and elves dancing upon the grasses. That was what I saw; my Frodo happy once more, all burdens lifted and his eyes full of life; those eyes.

"I'll wait for you," I whispered the promise to the wind. "I love you," I said to the setting sun. The sun lit up the waters in a blue so bright I felt compelled to shield my eyes, but I didn't. The blue was perfect. It reminded me of him, and those eyes.


End file.
